


Trust I

by WriteReal



Series: Trust [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Backdoor sex, F/M, NSFW, Pure Smut, Pushing boundaries, Trust, Unconventional Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 01:44:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14414967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteReal/pseuds/WriteReal
Summary: Felicity wants to try something new, something that Oliver is not interested in. Can the man who is always in charge cede control to the woman he loves?





	Trust I

**Author's Note:**

> **There is unconventional sex ahead. If you don't want to read about it, stop here. Everything is consensual.**
> 
> I don't own anything here but the ideas. The characters all belong to mega corporations and zillionaires. 
> 
> No beta; all mistakes are mine.

He was pleasantly, bone melting tired after their mutual “workout,” and he was just falling into sleep when he felt her fingertips softly sliding down his back. He smiled into the pillow and turned to look at her in the dim light of their bedroom. She was naked, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders, her beautiful breasts caressed by the soft light.

“Hi,” he said softly. He was surprised that she was awake and judging by the glint in her eyes, not tired at all.

“Hi.” Her fingers slid up and down his spine eliciting a shiver that made her smile. She leaned forward and started feathering kisses where her fingers had been. He shivered again. The only thing better than Felicity’s touches were her kisses.

“Are you up for something new?” she breathed into his ear. He quirked an eyebrow and looked into her dancing eyes. She definitely had a plan, and he didn’t know if he should be scared, excited, or both.

“Maybe,” he stretched the word out. “What did you have in mind?”

She smiled slowly, a devilish smile, and he felt a zip of fear shoot through him. What did his inventive, impish wife have in mind? She produced a body of their favorite massage oil, and his curiosity peaked. They had done a lot of fun things with that oil. What new thing could she have in mind?

“Close your eyes,” she ordered, and placed a kiss on each lid as he did so. He heard the top of the bottle pop open and a moment later the cool oil was trickling across his shoulders. He shivered again as her hands circled in the oil, warming it, before she started to stroke it across his skin.

He was awash in the glorious feeling of her hands gliding across his skin, rubbing and working his muscles. He thanked the universe again for his studious Felicity who had read up on massage techniques in order to practice them on him and then instructed him how to reciprocate. He had surprised her with a massage table a few weeks ago. He had made sure to buy a sturdy one.

He was so caught up in the massage that he had forgotten about her newest idea. Then her finger, which had slid down the crack between his cheeks, delved a little deeper than it ever had before. His eyes snapped open and he tensed.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Relax. It’s just me.”

His erection, which had been stiffening even as he had drifted in sheer contentment, deflated instantly. This was not just new, this was completely uncharted territory. Territory he didn’t want to venture into.

Her finger, coated with oil, slid up and down his crack and he flexed his glutes trying to push it out. Her other hand firmly rubbed one side and then the other trying to get him to relax.

“Felicity, I can’t,” he said.

She kissed the back of his neck. “Close your eyes,” she whispered again. He did, but he didn’t relax and he didn’t change his mind.

“I have never wanted to do that,” he said firmly. “Really. It’s not for me.”

“How do you know if you’ve never tried it?” Her finger slid down then curled up to the side, stroking the side of one cheek, then slid back down and curled to the other side. It felt good, but not good enough.

“I just know.” He hesitated. “I did try it once, sort of. In college. I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Have you ever tried doing it to someone else?”

“I, um.” He hesitated. They had never discussed anal sex, never even broached it. He didn’t want to tell her that he had done it, but he had sworn to never lie to her again. “I’ve, um,” he sighed. Damnit. “I’ve had intercourse that way.”

Felicity hummed in the back of her throat, her finger delving deeper again. He was still tense, but maybe not quite as much as before.

“Did she like it?”

He swallowed. Dear god, did she really want to talk about past sexual experiences? “Yes,” he said honestly. She had really liked it. It had shocked him how much she had liked it.

“Did you like it?” she asked. Both of her hands were kneading his glutes, rubbing the tension out of them, pulling them slightly apart. The blades from the slowly spinning ceiling fan cooled an area he wasn’t used to having cooled. He swallowed hard.

“Yes,” he stuttered. He was getting hard, thinking about it, and it bothered him. He didn’t want anyone except Felicity and he never thought about another woman; ones from his past or otherwise.

“But you gave, never received?”

“Yes,” he said. “I never wanted to receive. I really don’t want to talk about this, Felicity. It feels…wrong to talk about the past…”

She huffed at him. “I don’t care about some girl you had in college. You’re mine now and that is all that matters.” She nuzzled his neck and then all the way down his spine, slipping in slow circular licks at every veterbrae until she was sucking at the dip where his back ended and his butt began. His cock was at full mast again, but he tensed anyway.

“Trust me,” she murmured against his skin.

He took a big breath. Trust her. Of course, he trusted her. But this was something he had never wanted. Never ever thought about. It meant doing something that felt…not wrong, but different. Other. There was probably a Neanderthal part of him that was afraid it would mean he wanted men, and he definitely didn’t want any man that way. Definitely not.

But, she wanted this. Or rather, he sensed that she wanted him to trust her to try something he was resistant to. This was not about the act, per say, but him being willing to let her blindly lead him somewhere new, somewhere he was not sure of.

“Okay,” he whispered before he realized he was going to say it. It was Felicity. What was the worst that could happen? There was nothing, really, to be afraid of.

She smiled against his skin, and started licking and kissing her way down the fissure between his cheeks, her tongue darting in and out, wetting him, making his breath hitch. He knew, knew that the nerve endings were very sensitive there, that it was technically an erogenous zone. It wasn’t that she had never stroked that little flap of skin at the bottom of the crevice, the vestigial tail left over from evolution. They had done this before, but this was farther, deeper. There had never been any intention to go beyond.

She added oil to her fingers, and slid them deeper, dragging them across his puckered opening and he groaned. Involuntarily he pushed his hips up, opening himself and asking for more. She complied, rubbing, and then licking him. Her quick, hot tongue felt amazing. He felt the first drop of cum on his tip. He rubbed himself against the sheet and gasped as her tongue pushed hard, swirled faster. He thrust his hips back. Now, if they went no farther, he would be a fan of this forever.

Then, without warning, she spread him with one hand and slipped the tip of one finger inside him. He gasped and froze. It didn’t hurt, in fact, it felt good. But…not right. He was not the one who was supposed to be penetrated. He was supposed to fill, not be filled.

“Felicity,” he croaked, panic starting to rise in him. He couldn’t do this.

“Trust me,” she said, pausing. He nodded jerkily, and willed himself to relax. She took the cue, and stroked his inside with her fingertip.

“Oh GOD,” he exclaimed, and then she pushed her finger deeper and he keened at the blast of desire. His dick throbbed and he pushed back against her again. He couldn’t believe it felt so good. He didn’t want this but he didn’t want her to stop.

She didn’t stop. She pushed deeper until her finger was as far as it could. She pulled back, twirling her finger making his thrust back against her. He felt another finger push its way in and then, suddenly, another and he cried out.

“Oh God, oh god!” He was panting, and pushing back against her, his muscles squeezing around her and oh god it was too much. She pushed in and pulled back again and again, his desire building and building, It was so good. So good. His abs were tightening, he was getting close. Then her hand snaked around the front of him and took his throbbing cock in her hand. He gasped. The desire sharpened to near pain, and he thrust up and back, desperate, seeking pleasure from both hands.

She curled her fingers down, pushing against his prostate and a sob ripped from his throat. He needed to come, it was too much, too much. She pressed down with one hand and pumped him with the other. Everything went red behind his eyelids. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t stop. The rhythm, the need engulfed him. He was mindless, helpless in the throes of the burning. He was coming apart. He needed. He needed. In one blinding moment he came, jetting as his muscles spasamed against her fingers, his body quaking between her hands.

She kept going and his orgasm tore through him. He sobbed and writhed. It was pure pleasure and too much. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe. It went on and on and on. It wasn’t stopping, it wasn’t lessening.

“Stop,” he begged. “Please. Please.” Immediately, she gently withdrew her fingers and released his cock and he collapsed onto the mattress, shuddering and gasping for air.

He fought to catch his breath, to stop his muscles from trembling. He felt utterly spent, as if he had run a hard sprint until he dropped. Sweat poured off his skin and the breeze from the fan made his skin pucker into goose bumps. Felicity stretched out next to him, and pulled the covers over them.

Gradually his breathing evened and his heart slowed. His muscled still twitched. He could barely move. Felicity leaned forward and placed a soft, wondering kiss on his shoulder. He turned his head to meet her eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asked and he could tell she was worried that he hadn’t liked it.

“I’ve never felt anything like that,” he said, his voice husky. “It was wonderful…and terrible all at once. I-I lost control. I don’t know how to feel.”

She stroked his arm, still looking worried. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean—“

“Don’t be sorry,” he interrupted. “I’m not.” She didn’t look convinced. “I’m not,” he said insistently. “I just, I don’t think I can do that very often. It’s…overwhelming.”

She smiled at him, looking like the cat that got the cream. Then she punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Now you know what you do to me,” she said. 

His eyes widened. “It really feels like this? I literally can’t move. Every muscle in my body is shaking.”

She smirked. “Yeah, that is what it feels like a lot of the time. Like every nerve in my body has been zapped.”

He felt a flush of pride. He made her feel like this. All the time? He slowly smiled at her. “Well, then it will be interesting to see what it’s like when it’s your turn, Ms. Smoak.”

She grinned at him. “That’s Mrs. Queen to you. And you’re on.”

“Another night,” he said. “I’m going to need a couple of days to recoup.”

She laughed and snuggled up against him, kissing his shoulder again. “Lightweight,” she whispered. 

He chuckled and dropped into the deepest sleep of his life.


End file.
